Chapter 14: The Theatre's New Script
Walking into the First Team changing room at Carrington was like stepping onto a different planet. The air didn't smell like cheap liniment and anxiety anymore; it smelled of expensive cologne, leather, and the quiet, heavy confidence of multi-millionaires.
Mide stood at the threshold, his new Adidas bag clutched in his hand. He looked at the nameplates above the lockers. Giggs. Scholes. Ferdinand. Rooney.
"Oi, Nigeria! You're over there, next to Wazza," Rio Ferdinand shouted, pointing toward the corner. Rio was grinning, clearly still amused by the nutmeg from the day before, though a fresh bandage on his shin suggested he hadn't forgotten the sting.
Mide walked over. To his left sat Wayne Rooney, who was aggressively taping his own wrists, looking like he wanted to punch a hole through the wall just to warm up.
"Don't expect me to pass to you just 'cause the Gaffer likes your fancy flicks," Rooney grumbled, not looking up. "You run, you press, or you get out of my way. Clear?"
[System: "Aura Detection: Wayne Rooney (The Pitbull). Mood: Irritable. Advice: Don't try to be his friend yet. Just don't mess up his goal-scoring lanes, or he'll tackle you himself."]
Understood, Baba, Mide thought, sitting down.
[System: "By the way, check your locker. Sir Alex doesn't just give out seats. He gives out 'The Plan'."]
Mide opened his locker and found a laminated sheet of paper. It wasn't a tactical manual; it was a diet and supplement regime.
ADEYEMI, O. – NUTRITION PROTOCOL 01
.7:00: spinach and kale wheatgrass shot.
.10:00: creatine-whey Isolate (Double Dose)
.13:00: steamed sea bass and Brown rice(no salt)
.Note: if I see you with a meat pie or a bottle of Fanta you're back to the U-16s -Signed Alex Ferguson.
[System: "Grass for breakfast and fish for lunch. Welcome to the elite life, Oga. I hope you said goodbye to your mother's Jollof, because your 'Physical' stat is about to be force-fed into the 70s. Current SP: 855. Suggestion: Keep 500 SP as an 'Emergency Fund' for your debut. You never know when you'll need a miracle."]
August 12, 2006: The Debut
The bus ride to Old Trafford was silent. Mide sat near the back, staring out the window as the red brick terraced houses of Stretford gave way to the towering glass and steel of the stadium.
The "Theatre of Dreams."
In his first life, Mide had watched United games on a grainy TV in a Lagos bar, shouting over the noise of a generator. Now, he was walking through the glass doors, past the "United Trinity" statue of Best, Law, and Charlton.
[System: "Location Synchronized: Old Trafford. Ambient Pressure: Extreme. Fan Presence: 76,000. Current Quest: 'The Ten-Minute Impact'. Objective: Touches: 5+. Pass Accuracy: 100%. Reward: 200 SP & 'Local Fan Favorite' status."]
The game against Reading FC was a grind. United were dominant but frustrated. Rooney had hit the post twice, and Ronaldo was being doubled-teamed every time he touched the ball. The score was 1-1 at the 80th minute.
Sir Alex turned toward the bench. His eyes scanned the veterans—Park Ji-Sung, Fletcher—then stopped on the boy with the dark skin and the calm eyes.
"Adeyemi! Get your tracksuit off!" Sir Alex roared over the noise of the Stretford End.
Mide stood up. His heart wasn't racing; it was vibrating. He felt the Iron Grit settling into his joints.
"Listen to me," Sir Alex said, grabbing Mide by the collar of his jersey. "The Reading defenders are tired. They're heavy. I want you to go in there and make them dizzy. Play between the lines. Feed Cristiano. If you lose the ball, you chase it until your lungs bleed. Go!"
Mide stepped onto the touchline. The fourth official held up the board.
[OUT: #11 Ryan Giggs]
[IN: #42 Olumide Adeyemi]
As Mide stepped onto the grass, the roar of 76,000 people hit him like a physical wave. It was deafening. It was terrifying. It was beautiful.
[System: "Activating 'The Oracle Sight'. Field Analysis: Reading Defenders Stamina: 15%. Gaps detected in the right channel. Trigger 'Phantom Step'?"]
Not yet, Baba, Mide thought, his first touch deadening a high ball instantly. Let them think I'm just a kid first.
The Final Minute
89th minute. The ball was stuck in a messy scramble in midfield. Mide dropped deep, dragging a defender with him. He received a short pass from Scholes.
Instead of playing it safe, Mide performed a 360-degree 'Marseille Turn' right in the center circle, leaving the Reading midfielder staring at the grass.
"Go on, lad!" a voice screamed from the stands.
Mide looked up. He saw Ronaldo making a blistering run toward the back post. He also saw Rooney screaming for the ball in the center.
Future Knowledge: In the original 2006, this game ended 1-1. Not today.
Mide didn't pass to Rooney. He didn't pass to Ronaldo. He saw the goalkeeper, Marcus Hahnemann, slightly off his line, expecting a cross.
Mide used the Cheetah's First Step to burst past the last midfielder. He was 25 yards out. He didn't shoot for power. He used the "Knuckleball" technique he had practiced in the dust of Surulere, striking the ball with a flat lace.
The ball rose, then dipped violently, swerving left then right in mid-air.
Hahnemann dived, but the ball moved like a ghost, swerving around his outstretched palm and clattering into the side-netting.
GOAL.
Old Trafford exploded. The sound was so loud Mide felt it in his teeth.
He didn't run to the corner flag to dance. He stood still in front of the Stretford End, arms spread wide, head held high.
Rooney was the first to reach him, nearly knocking him over with a massive bear hug. "You cheeky little brat! What a hit!"
Then came Ronaldo. He stood in front of Mide, a look of genuine shock on his face, before breaking into a grin. He ruffled Mide's hair. "I told you, Nigeria. We see."
[System: "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Debut Goal Recorded! 500 SP earned. Reputation with Fans: 'The New Prince'. Sir Alex Ferguson's Trust: +20%."]
The Quiet After the Storm
An hour later, the stadium was empty. Mide sat in the dressing room, his body aching, a protein shake in his hand. The rest of the team was laughing, heading toward the players' lounge.
Mide pulled his phone out. He had a message from an unknown number.
"Nice goal, Olumide. But don't get too comfortable. My boys in London are watching you. — Jose."
Mide stared at the screen. Jose Mourinho. The Chelsea manager was already playing mind games.
[System: "Oho! The Special One is texting you? You really have disturbed the hive, Mide. 2007 is going to be a very interesting year. But for now... enjoy the win. You just became the first Nigerian to score on his Manchester United debut."]
Mide looked at his hands. They were steady. He thought of his sisters in Lagos, probably celebrating in the streets. He thought of the "Golden Seeds" he had to protect.
"One goal down," Mide whispered. "A thousand to go."
[Current Status]
Name: Mide Adeyemi (MA10)
SP: 1555 (Massive Boost!)
Stats: Shooting +3 (Now 67), Physical +1 (62).
Reputation: Rising Star.